Repayment
by PetPetAngel
Summary: Charlie wonders vaguely how he could ever repay the nicest, kindest man in the entire world.


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Repayment

Written by:

PetPetAngel

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Charlie sniffled quietly to himself and sighed softly, burrowing his face into the soft fabrics of his new bed. Though he didn't particularly care for them over his old bed, they were a nice change from his old bed that had done nothing but make him remember how cold he was. Charlie smiled after the thought, knowing he'd never be that cold ever again. Mr. Wonka would never allow it.

Mr. Wonka would never let that happen to him. He'd never let him be hungry, or cold or… It would all be okay.

Because Mr. Wonka was the kindest, sweetest man in the entire world, who was willing to change for him and who was willing to take in his entire family, just because he wouldn't have been happy without them. Charlie knew that if the man needed him to change – which he probably would at some point – that he would change for the man too. He would take charge only if it made Mr. Wonka happy.

His family would live in happiness, because Mr. Wonka was the kindest, sweetest man in the entire world. He was just as sweet as his chocolate, no, sweeter than his chocolate. Mr. Wonka was a fantastic man who did what he wanted as long as it made him happy… How could he ever repay the man for being so wondrous? Never, Charlie thought. Was there any way he could give the man something of equal value of what had given him?

Charlie loved his family to death and would do anything for them, but here was this man who had been hurt… And even hated people when they had done nothing to him. But they had, Charlie thought sadly. People have tried to take away Mr. Wonka's imagination, and Mr. Wonka's imagination is his soul. Mr. Wonka's imagination is his life – and the very love of his life.

Charlie sighed softly and sniffled again. He bit his lip, worrying it for a moment as he thought. There was no way he could possibly repay Mr. Wonka. There was no way. What could he, a small, poor boy, give to the greatest candyman in the world something of substantial value?

This happened every night. Every night, Charlie would lay in the soft sheets and blankets of his bed, staring up at the violet and blue hues of his ceiling, wondering how he could repay Mr. Wonka, thinking there was never, ever, any way he could possibly do that. How could he?

And so there he'd lay, feeling choked and so happy he felt like he wanted to cry. He couldn't help it.

And Charlie wondered how Mr. Wonka had ever thought that he, Charlie Bucket, was fit for being an heir to an entire chocolate factory when… When the time came. Perhaps Veruca, who could take charge, or Violet who could deal with her enemies, or even Mike or Augustus would be better than him. He had no particular skill that made him valuable, no particular skill that Mr. Wonka could harness, and even with Mr. Wonka's training, Charlie didn't see how he could possibly become anything.

But then Mr. Wonka's words came to mind. Violet was _too_ competitive and too independent for her good, Veruca was too demanding, bossy, bratty and pushy, Augustus was an obvious glutton and of course there was the fact that Mike hated chocolate just as much if not more than he seemed to hate everything else. Or at least, that was what Mr. Wonka had said.

And even though it made him feel like the most special little boy in the world (which he truly was, how could he complain?) he knew that they may have been (even though he would've preferred to not think that way) empty words meant to comfort him and his low self-esteem.

Charlie sighed again and squeezed his eyes shut tight, biting his lip a little bit harder and feeling the early signs of tears come on. He didn't want Mr. Wonka to lie to him and to be pretend like he had been during most of the tour, and even though Charlie understood as best as he could that it was hard for Mr. Wonka to show his emotions, he just hoped that he could be good enough to Mr. Wonka wouldn't have to pretend.

Pretending was good for the imagination, seeing things like they were just pretend and then you could bring them to life, but pretending because he was uncomfortable, because Charlie wasn't good enough wasn't going to get them anywhere.

Charlie tried to take a deep breath, but it caught in his throat as a knock echoed throughout the room. Charlie wiped furiously at his eyes and then quietly, "Come in."

Even though Charlie wasn't facing the door, he could just tell that it was Mr. Wonka. He didn't think that Mr. Wonka was wearing his heels, though, so he was sort of surprised that he could tell. Mr. Wonka sat on the bed, and Charlie sucked in a breath. Even though there was virtually no reason for the action, there was something different about… About…. Everything now.

"Something's wrong," Mr. Wonka said. Charlie gulped because he didn't think that it was whatever was different in the room that made the man say it. It wasn't even a question, and Charlie nodded. It seemed that that was all that Mr. Wonka had planned because the room lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

"You're right," Charlie said, even though he was sure that Mr. Wonka already knew that. Figuring that Mr. Wonka probably wouldn't say anything unless Charlie said something first, Charlie answered the question that had technically never been asked.

"It's just… You've done so much for me and my family, and I want to give you something in repayment, but I have nothing that really could mean anything, and it wouldn't matter anyway 'cause it'd never be enough, ya know? I don't want to disappoint you, Mr. Wonka."

There was a long silence as Mr. Wonka pondered over his heir's words, and Charlie shifted uncomfortably to finally look at the candy man. He was afraid that he'd see annoyance, or something worse there, but Mr. Wonka's face was purely passive, and it scared Charlie for a moment.

There was silence for a long time until Mr. Wonka said, "But you have repaid me, Charlie. You've given me 'payment' and so much more than that. You've given me someone who I could trust, and who I could depend on. You've given me someone who I could love and who wouldn't be afraid to love me back. You gave me someone who I could share all of my secrets with."

"But… What about the Oompa Loompas, Mr. Wonka?"

"That's different," Mr. Wonka said. "I can trust the Oompa Loompas with my formulas because they are indebted to me and because they have no where else they could go. But you I can trust because you are a truthful, kind, sweet boy. I can trust the Oompa Loompas with my recipes – but you, dear Charlie…. You, I can trust with _all_ off my secrets."

Mr. Wonka was looking at him with the most piercing gaze that he had ever received, and it almost made Charlie uncomfortable. But after a moment, Mr. Wonka murmured, "You aren't afraid to love me, are you Charlie?"

Charlie shook his head and smiled softly and Mr. Wonka then dove forward and wrapped the man in an appreciative hug. The man was still as stone for a moment until he slowly, but surely, wrapped his arms tightly around the smiling boy. And Charlie, who felt much, much better now, murmured back, "No Mr. Wonka. Never."


End file.
